Coming August 30, 2016

Mark of The Fallen, A Fallen Novel

“Karim,” she panted, not really knowing what to do or say. 

He held her face, his thumb stroking her bottom lip. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, collecting himself before he was able to speak. 

“You have no idea how much I want you.  I’ve always wanted you.  Whenever I close my eyes I see your face, I smell your scent. I see you and all I want to do is bury myself inside of you. I wake up, my body on fire, aching to be inside of you. I remember everything about you: your voice, your laugh, your taste stays on my tongue, and the feel of your skin is burned into my memory. There is an ache in my chest whenever I see you and it kills me, rips my fucking heart apart knowing that my stupid, selfish childish actions caused  you so much pain. I know that I’ll never be good enough for you. But when I’m near you, hell when I smell you I just… shit, I want you so much I can’t fucking breathe. Do you know how much it hurts to be so close to you and not be allowed to fucking have you? It’s torture. Being around you …it’s fucking torture. “

 ” Just… stop talking. ” She whispered before pressing herself against him, her mouth moving over his, her hands sinking into his hair.

Get your copy wherever book are sold

I Loved It-Fallen Cover

When I started reading the book, I could not believe how I was sucked into it. Eli is so sexy, The heat between the characters is so hot. I finished the book in a couple of days.  I also ordered books for my sisters for Christmas.  If you love supernatural and love stories, this is the book. What better place for love and supernatural than New Orleans.

                                                Tracey Paul-  5 Stars



An absolutely amazing book for any lover of theology, mythology and a lot of sexy action.  It reminds me a lot of Anne Rice in the eroticism of the authors prose. The second I read the last page I went online to order the next book only to find out that it isn’t out yet. Which makes me a sad panda

                                Tammi-  5 stars-


Great Read-

 This is an exciting and well written romance novel.  I am excitedly looking forward to reading more books by this talented author.

                                Heather Epps-

Get you copy today!!








The Best Advice I’ve Ever Gotten…Or Sometimes you Get Onions

Earlier this month, I was given the opportunity to guest on the Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal Romance Writers blog . Here is my article on the Best Advice I’ve ever Received… Enjoy and please check out FF&P here


When I was little, I had this weird habit of sucking my index and middle fingers the way most kids suck their thumbs.  It was a bizarre habit that stayed with me well into kindergarten until one Thanksgiving, my mother offered to paint my nails and informed me that if she did, I could no longer suck my fingers. Believe it or not, it worked.

But that is completely off topic.

This is about the best advice I ever received, not my odd habits and idiosyncrasies, but that little quirk plays a major role in this story.

As I said before, I sucked my fingers and used that as a reason not to speak.  It’s not that I couldn’t, I just wouldn’t because, well, in all honesty, I never had to.  My nods, grunts, gestures and giggles were perfectly understood by all those around me. I could point to something and my mother, aunts, uncles, cousins all knew what I needed or wanted without me taking those two fingers out of my mouth.

That is, everyone except my paternal grandmother known to all as Ms. Delores. She was smart, funny, caring, and honest and my very best friend until the day she died. She was my babysitter, confidant and the one person who was on my side not matter what.

Now, don’t get me wrong, she was great, but she was unflinchingly honest and told me exactly what she thought about my behavior.  When she thought I was acting like a spoiled brat, and I could, she would tell me in no uncertain terms that I was being a jackass.  Over the years, she gave me lots of advice, mostly during my pre-teen and teen years. Those hard years when your parents don’t quite know what to do with you and you don’t know what to do with yourself. When you’re body rebels and boy did my body rebel.   By the time I was twelve I was five foot seven, with a 36 D bust and muscular thighs. I was black Barbie and I had no idea how to handle that body with the geeky, nerdy brain that rattled around in my head.

“Biggums,” She called me that because she said she could hear me coming through the house like a freight train, a ‘big’un’. “You’re going to be who you are and nobody can change that. Don’t let people think you’re less than you are.  No matter your size, you skin color or the kink in your hair, you’re beautiful and you’re smarter than you let people know.  God made you the way you are for a reason, don’t let anyone tell you any different.”

That stuck with me and formed who I am but… that’s not the best advice she ever gave me.

Back to the fingers.

I would stand beside her as she cooked in heavy cast iron skillets on her old gas stove in her shotgun house all the time. This particular day, I stood watching her chop something thick and white then put a piece into her mouth and chew.  She looked down at me and asked, “You want some?” With fingers securely between my lips, I nodded.

She handed me a slice, a thin sliver and I greedy removed my fingers and took a big bite. Then I spit it out and looked at her with tears stinging my eyes.

“You thought it was an apple, didn’t you?” She asked and again I nodded. “Well, if you never take those finger out of your mouth and use your voice you’re going to get more of that. Don’t be afraid to ask questions and say how you feel  or else …sometimes… you’ll get onions.”

And that was the best advice I’ve ever received.

How Old Is Old Enough??

I’ve been wondering lately, how old is old enough. Okay, let me start at the beginning…

I have a thirteen year old daughter and no…she is not asking about sex or anything like that. As a matter of fact, she finds the entire topic inappropriate and should never be brought up unless she brings it up and it should only be spoken of euphemistically.  (She would probably be pissed to know I ‘m writing this, but since she doesn’t read my site, I won’t worry about it.)  She’s very Victorian in her morals   I mean she covers her eyes just in case someone kisses and has run from the room more than once when a boob made an appearance on a TV show or movies we were watching, (But she did find Magic Mike interesting as she lingered in a hallway to see some “things”)and I have no idea where that comes from because I am as open and honest with her as I can be.

And I think I just answered my own question.

Anyway, the issue that I’m having is how old is old enough to let her read my books.  She has read some of my short stories and I even attempted to write a novel just for her but it didn’t turn out as I expected.  I will probably revisit it in the future, but not now.

I began reading romance novels in at about her age, but they were all very pure, all of the heroines were virgins and the men gentle and sweet princes…I don’t write that.  I write true relationships and things aren’t always pretty.  Heroines aren’t virginal women waiting for her savior, the heroes  aren’t always noble and heroic…so do I allow her to read my writing or let her stay as she is, even though she persists on asking to read my books?

My problem now is wondering if she’s old enough to read my current novels. They are romances but they are full of sex and violence and I don’t want to warp her delicate sensibilities.  On the other hand, I don’t want her to be a prude forever.  I also don’t want her to read what I’ve written and get ideas like maybe her mom is a sex maniac of former porn star.

Along that same vein I think it’s why my mother has yet to finish reading my first novel, which she’s had for three years now.  She just can’t seem to separate me and the story even though she knows perfectly well I am nothing like the characters. Sometimes I think she thinks, I’m not old enough to write what I write because I’m her little girl and always will be.

As I look at a text message from her, informing me that she is going to a friend’s house, and yes she has her key and yes, she has taken out the trash…and smiles Mommy, smiles… I think I want her to stay just as she is for as long as she can be.


Mini Me at 6 years old.